Waving a white flag, naturally. He passed, and came loitering back and stood beside her, silently looking into her face. If he laid his own suspicions boldly before the girl, and in the end the boy came clean, he would always be haunted by the witless cruelty of the act. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. ‘Think I’m fool enough to do my business in a convent?’ he said scornfully. ’ ‘Unless it is Captain Roding,’ put in Lucilla Froxfield from the curved back sofa on the other side of the fireplace.
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